Escapist Tendencies
by Riverflame
Summary: HermioneCho femmeslash - Cho never really did believe in fairy tales.


**Title:** Escapist Tendencies

**Rating:** PG-13 for homosexuality, mature themes

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. It all belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

**Notes:** Hermione/Cho. Kind of angsty and dark. Written for Paranoid Kitten in the HP Femmeslash Ficathon, put on by RubyKate.

* * *

  
"He's been asking about you." They're studying again, sitting in a corner of the nearly-abandoned Great Hall. Cho looks up from her book momentarily at Hermione's question, then returns her attention to the text.

"Who?" she asks, casually. But Hermione isn't in the mood to beat around the bush.

"You know who." Cho looks up again, meeting the other girl's intent gaze, and her eyes are cold and steely.

"I don't want to talk about him."

Hermione's really sick of this. "Who do you want to talk about, then? Cedric?" She hears a small gasp and Cho's face is dead white.

"Ginny Weasley?" The words slip, serpentlike, inside Hermione's ears, where they echo and repeat themselves again and again.

"Shut up." Pages rustle and Hermione stands, scattering her notes. How dare she?

"Hermione –" Cho looks ready to apologize, but Hermione won't let her.

"_Shut up._ I shouldn't have told you. Not ever." What a fool she'd been. _Ginny Weasley._ What an absolute fool.

"I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said…"

But Hermione has already fled the Hall without a second thought to her things, still lying on the table.

-

"Don't you want to know what Harry's been asking?"

Cho doesn't even look at her.

"Why you cry all the time. Why it's so hard for you to let go of Cedric. Why you won't just do something with him, anything."

"I kissed him." And you haven't kissed anyone, have you, Hermione?

"And you were crying." How do you think you made Harry feel?__

"I… _Merlin, _Hermione! I'm confused! You know that, so why are you attacking me?"

"Are you really still so confused? You've had a long time to figure things out. Stop playing stupid."

"What's with you? It's none of your business where I'm going or not going with Harry!"

"But I keep getting involved. I shouldn't have to answer all his questions and spell things out for him, thick as he can be. Talk to him, for christssake. Tell him what you want."

"What if I don't know what I want?"

"I don't believe that for a second. Not after all this. You just don't want to admit it to yourself."

"Admit what?"

"The truth."

"I don't know what's true and what's not!"

"Then trust your instincts."

Cho notices Hermione didn't say to trust her heart. They both know how unreliable _that's_ been.

"What do you want?" Hermione asks. "If you won't tell Harry, will you tell me?"

I want Cedric back. I want peace. I want to win the Quidditch cup. I want Harry to be my boyfriend. I want to press you up against the wall and dig my nails into your shoulders and kiss you until you can't breathe and you kiss me back.

"You." And Cho gives in.

-

Cedric never would do these things, no matter how much she might have wanted him to. He was all gentleness and loving, caring and protecting. Almost like a brother, except he kissed her on the lips. Cho loved him, but now she isn't quite sure how. More than a brother, but less than… less than this, what she has with Hermione. It is heat, and passion, and forbidden love; sneaking around, quick encounters in the dark, touches between the library shelves.

Sometimes she catches Hermione giving her burning looks in the hallways or in the Great Hall. She can't meet her gaze, and so pretends not to notice. Hermione never says anything later, so it must not be a problem, though Cho suspects that****the other girl wants something more than what Cho gives. It's something about the way she smiles, the difference between Cho, everyone else, and then Ginny.

Neither of them says the word love. Cho never really did believe in fairy-tales.

-

Hermione tangles her fingers in Cho's ebony hair and tugs, pulling her head back, breathing down her collar, tracing her tongue over the fluttering pulse. Cho closes her eyes;she is drowning, she is not here, she is falling apart again beneath Hermione's burning touch.

_This is living,_ she says without words. _I am alive.  
_

-  
  
She realizes how strange this is, to feel alive, when there are times she still can't breathe and she chokes on her own tears. 

"Don't cry, Cho. Please, don't cry. Can't I do anything for you?"

Cho doesn't answer, but Hermione touches her anyway.

-  
  
"What makes you happy, Cho?"

Being alone in the library. Your smile. Rain on a Thursday. Loving myself. All the things I don't have, and maybe some I do. Cho doesn't say any of this,****just closes her eyes.

"I think I forget what happiness means."

"Oh." She can hear Hermione's confused sadness. Neither of them speak for what seems like a long time.

"I don't make you happy, then?"

Cho opens her eyes and looks at the girl in front of her, reaching out a hand.

"I think you make me happy. Like when you smile." She touches Hermione's lips. There is laughter in their faces.

Outwardly they're happy, but Cho can't help feeling that they're both lying about something. About what, she's not sure. But lies need to come to an end, eventually, and Cho can't take it much longer. She's been silent for far too long.

"I don't know what I want, Hermione."

Hermione isn't really hearing this. Cho is sure of herself. She's smart and sure of herself, and Hermione needs to be sure of this.

"I never knew what I wanted. I know I'm supposed to be so damn smart but I'm confused, and I need… I need…"

What does she need anymore? How much has she gotten? All that she****wanted, and it's lost now. Cedric, Harry, and now Hermione, who she's pushing away.

"I need time."

We all need time.

"I need time and space, to think."

It's what you do best, Cho dear.

"I know you hate it, and you probably hate me, and so does everyone else, but I can't deal with anything."

She's crying. Hermione wants to reach out a hand and touch those tears, keep them away. They're always there, hiding in the corners of her eyes. Nothing makes her happy anymore.

"I love you. I love Harry. I love… I loved Cedric." Hermione doubts Cho remembers what love is, if she can't even remember happiness. Cho's voice is hoarse. "But I never loved myself."

It's too perfect, too much like a movie romance, too much like what they know is the truth.

"Are you even listening?"

I just want to make you happy.

"Hermione?" She's angry now.

Hermione whispers, "Whatever makes you happy," and touches Cho's wet cheek. Cho flinches and closes her eyes, but doesn't leave.


End file.
